He Was A Bit Late

He felt he was free from pain
His soul was free and flying
Down his corpse was motionless
Around which people were crying.

He was happy to finally rest in peace
With no more burden or load
He felt it was an end of his journey
A journey on the life's road.

People were visible standing by his coffin
With an intention to carry him to the morgue
He heard some say he was a good man
While others compared him to a rogue.

He felt annoyed by their attitude
As if his soul had pricked a thorn
His ill wishers shed crocodile tears
While his loved ones simply mourned.

As his body was moved to the cemetary
He saw it being placed on wood
His kin were performing final rites
While others were in a jovial mood.

Pop! came the sound as his corpse burnt
It turned into nothing but a heap of ash
None were interested in him anymore
Waiting to party on his will and cash.

He forgot he was dead and turned to his body
Desperate to be alive, to change his fate
But now he was nothing but only a ghost
He realised maybe he was a bit late!!!

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I want to thank Shobhanaji for changing my thinking about life... Through this poem I would like to convey that death is not the answer to end sorrows, burdens and loads... you might be dead next moment but its not necessary that your soul would rest in peace...
This is my tribute to Shobhanaji's poems...